Author's note: Hi everyone! Thank you for being utterly awesome and for giving this story love!
Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! Exactly one year ago today, I published the first chapter of The Persistence of Memory, which is my very first TVD fanfic - making this my fanfic-aversary, as well! I wanted to wholeheartedly thank everyone for their beautiful love and support. I'm enormously grateful for the joyful welcome, support, and insight. Let's celebrate love, today and every day! :)
Late September 2009
As soon as Damon sauntered away like the obnoxious provocateur he was, Caroline wasted little time in immediately jumping to Elena's side.
"Was that Damon?" the head cheerleader asked perkily, subconsciously grooming herself with a few quick strokes through her hair in case Damon was still around somewhere, observing.
He wasn't.
"Yep," Elena replied uncomfortably, almost successfully convincing herself that said discomfort had everything to do with the secret of Damon's supernatural status that she was now keeping from Caroline, and not at all the physiological and emotional – no, just physiological, yep, that's it, only that – response she had to the vampire in question.
Since when did Elena operate on pure lust that wasn't rooted in emotion? Both Caroline and Anna made fun of her inability to compartmentalize enough, with Anna being admittedly impressed with Caroline's proficiency with separating love from sex with apparent ease. At least Bonnie had the decency come to her defense against her friend's uproarious, though admittedly good-natured, cackles.
Wait a minute? Since when did she even admit to feeling lust for that jackass? No, it was just frustration, because he's an obnoxious ass.
"So," Caroline fished, studying Elena's face for any change in micro-expression, while telling herself that she would absolutely need to develop this skill as a broadcast journalist, so this was purely for professional purposes and not at all for juicy gossip and the chance to jump into the Mystic Falls' resident hottie's pants. Oh, who was she kidding? "Damon seemed to be looking a lot better."
"Yeah!" Elena exclaimed with nervous cheer. "He's cured! Isn't that fantastic news?"
Caroline narrowed her eyes. That was a little too easy, which probably meant that Elena was hiding something. Nice try, 'Lena, she thought. If Damon's recovery wasn't the day's biggest news, then what was? "Great!" she chirped. "I can't wait to bring over some congratulatory cupcakes after school! I'll bake some this weekend."
It took nearly all of Elena's willpower to stifle her growl, which she had to admit took her by complete surprise. For a brief nanosecond, she couldn't hold back a fantasy of ripping Caroline's pretty, blonde hair out and –
Wait, where did that come from? No, she wasn't jealous. Calm, calm, calm.
"I think that's a great idea," Elena concurred with forced politeness. "Hey!" she thought fast. "Maybe Stefan will be there, too. I heard he was staring at you in History." Lie. Desperate lie.
"Really?" Caroline asked in a tone that rapidly shifted from dubious to hopeful.
"That's what I heard," Elena shrugged helplessly, now trying to shed the responsibility of the lie and any of its potential consequences, praying that Caroline would just let this go. Maybe she could talk to Stefan and convince him of Caroline's virtues? Yes, she would do that, because she's a good friend. That's the only reason. It had absolutely nothing to do with the scary, lethal fantasy rage that nearly consumed her several seconds prior. At all.
Caroline looked so nervous, so vulnerable at the news. Her arms squeezed her own torso in an effort to comfort her vulnerability. "I just …" want to be chosen, she thought, trailing off. She sighed, collecting herself. "I hope you're right. Now, what are you standing around for? These cars won't wash themselves!" Caroline was back in girl-boss mode, which meant extracurriculars, grades, achievement – with her eye on the Miss Mystic Falls crown next.
It was Ivies or bust.
Maybe then she would finally feel like she's enough.
Early October
Elena and Anna sat across from a positively bewildered – and even terrified – Bonnie at the quarry. They decided that it was best to get the proverbial show on the road – before they were too overwhelmed with frustration at having to judge the misogynistic monstrosity later that night – and ease Bonnie into Anna's secret, with hopes to bring her on board to help within a matter of days.
"What do you mean you're a vampire?" the witch asked, for possibly the tenth time, aghast. "Vampires don't exist!"
"And yet, you just set a car on fire," Anna sassed with an air of unbothered normalcy, which in and of itself was enough to drive Bonnie further into discomforted confundity. "If witches exist, why can't vampires?"
"Okay, you've got a point," Bonnie reasoned, not even remotely comforted.
Seeing this, Elena took her friend's hands in her own. "Hey, Bonnie, we're here for you. You know we're your friends."
It was a strategy the girls discussed before the talk. Anna would provide the exposition; and Elena, the comfort. The topic itself was wild enough that its delivery had to be at least somewhat controlled, lest it spin out catastrophically. Grimly, Anna noted that Bonnie's grandmother might see the situation very differently, so they had to tread carefully.
"Is this why I always sensed death around you, Anna? Because you're technically – dead?" Bonnie asked, still uncomfortable, though becoming strangely acclimated to the information. She couldn't quite explain why, but it was as though the molecules inside her sang with truth. Is this the Nature of which her Grams spoke – the magic that all Bennett witches worship?
Anna only shrugged mischievously in response. "Have you done anything cool yet?" she instead decided to ask, feeling a change of topic was in order.
"Not a lot – I made some predictions, and I made feathers float!" Bonnie said excitedly, then winced when she remembered her accidental car flambe from that morning, inwardly grumbling that Harry Potter absolutely failed to convey just how terrifying accidental magic could really be. "And you know the rest."
"Magical accidents are totally common when a witch comes into her power," Anna explained insightfully. "Nothing out of the ordinary happened. You just need training. I'm assuming your grandmother is doing it?"
"Yeah, Grams has been trying to get me to acknowledge this for years, but my dad was always against it," Bonnie replied growing increasingly more comfortable – practically shining with relief. "You have no idea how good it feels to actually be able to talk about this with friends," she admitted quietly. "I thought I was going crazy for a while – that Grams went crazy ages ago. But – can you tell me more? About witches?"
"Yeah, sure," Anna replied, a bit surprised. She always assumed that Bennett witches revolved the bulk of their lives around magic practically since birth – to hear that Bonnie's father tried to keep her from developing her gift was a shock, to say the least. Didn't he realize how connected witches were to the source of their magic – how they needed it like breathing, the very air in their lungs, the ether of their souls?
Magic was everything to a witch. To prohibit its flow in any way was almost inhumane, not unlike a slow death of the soul.
At least Bonnie had her grandmother in her corner, Anna reasoned, but it seemed like quite the battle.
"Witches and vampires don't typically get along," Anna said with a wince, "but you're my friend, and I don't want what we are to come between us –"
"Of course not!" Bonnie interrupted, appalled that Anna would think that she'd stop being her friend just because of her species. Was that the correct term? "If I stopped talking to you because of what you are, what would that make me?"
"Bonnie's not a bigot," Elena said confidently, taking each of their hands to bridge any gaps between them, a show of unity. "There's no need to worry."
"Yeah, it's not like you kill anyone," Bonnie pressed, desperate in her hope that she intuited her friend's nature correctly. "Do you?" she asked nervously.
"Not unless I have to," Anna admitted, wondering how to steer this conversation while technically avoiding lying – if only by omission. Telling a budding Bennett witch about all the scary parts of vampirism during her 'coming out' probably wasn't the wisest course of action. "I'm over five hundred, so my control's pretty excellent. Most of us just want to live our lives. It's usually the newbie edge-lord vamps that come into town, swinging their big manhood-compensations around to make a statement. It's all kind of gauche and pathetic – and attracts the exact wrong kind of attention."
"What kind is that?" Elena asked, by now having her role as comforter being steadily caught up by her innate curiosity.
"Vampire hunters. Trust me, you don't want the town swarming with them. A lot of them are pretty obsessive, and don't really consider collateral damage high on their priority list," Anna explained, knowing that human safety was probably the most important aspect of keeping a vampire hunter away to the girls – though Anna admittedly had different concerns, but they didn't need to know that yet. "A smart vampire knows how to keep a low profile."
"Is that why you came to town? Because your old home became overrun with vampire hunters?" Bonnie asked astutely, recalling a strange conversation she had with her Grams about an ancient witch and the generational curse she put on five bloodlines to do her bidding over the millennia. At the time, she thought it was delirious rambling, but now it almost made an eerie sort of sense.
"Not exactly, though your logic is pretty solid," Anna replied, knowing that the moment of truth was at hand. "I'm in town to free my mom. It can only happen when the Lamia comet is overhead," she said with finality, knowing that the incompleteness of her statement was almost certain to draw inquiries. "And that's where you come in, Bon," she said in a hushed whisper, her face awash with trepidation Bonnie had never seen before on her normally somewhat-guarded, snarky friend. "I need your help."
"Why me?" Bonnie asked, taken aback, feeling her heart palpitate as the magic coursed through her. It whispered to her, though she was remiss in understanding its message, as before. All she could identify was a feeling – an importance.
"You're a Bennett witch. The original spell was cast by your ancestor, Emily, when she saved my mother and others from being burned in Fell's Church by opening the passage to the tomb underneath and sealing them inside. Only her descendant can break the seal, Bonnie – only her descendant can help save my mom," Anna supplied, fierce intensity shining in her dark eyes.
"The Battle of Willow Creek – the one we learned about in class…" Bonnie breathed, training off as her eyes widened at the implications.
"Was about vampires, after all," Elena finished for her, speaking for the first time since Anna began her explanation. The moment felt like one that should be shared between Anna and Bonnie, she reasoned, and she was mostly here for emotional support – which she was certain would be needed once the implications become more apparent, threatening to send Bonnie into emotional shock.
"But … I'm just a novice witch," Bonnie explained. I can barely move feathers. How can I unlock an ancient seal?" Bonnie asked desperately. "Maybe if I ask Grams –"
"If we could convince your grandmother to help, that would be amazing," Anna offered, though her tone was mired with uncertainty. "She might be skeptical about releasing starving vampires, but I can vouch that I won't let them hurt anyone," she added with a lot more confidence than she felt. Would she really be able to stop them? Quite a few of them were innocent – with some even kind, like Harper – and hardly deserved the fate they suffered for the previous century and a half. But then there were others, like Fredrick and Bethann – steeped in cruelty and malice. She doubted she'd be able to convince them to restrain their worst instincts.
But then again, who was she to judge whether they lived or died?
Someone who had people she cared about directly in their projected path of violence. Okay, so maybe she wouldn't rescue Fredrick and Bethann. But what if they changed?
This was a problem for another day, Anna reasoned with an inward groan. One step at a time, with the current being the effort to convince Bonnie to help. And by the looks of things, they had at least one Bennett witch on their side.
But would Bonnie's power be enough for such a gargantuan task?
"How the hell did they manage to swing this in a week?" Elena grumbled in her seat at the worst contest she'd ever been forced to attend in her life, while her fingers squeezed and mauled and released every ounce of negativity she felt on the brochure advertising the event in question.
Somehow, Little Miss Miss Mystic Falls not only managed to find enough contestants to make this debacle possible within an absurdly short time span, but the entire Founders Council simply outdid themselves in decorating Lockwood Manor, the setting of the event.
The surprisingly balmy early October weather allowed the pageant to be hosted outdoors, bringing attention to the lush fall foliage adorning the garden's many towering trees.
The tables were set with adorable little plushies serving as centerpieces, while brightly colored confetti and glass ornaments lined the walls, sprinkled to the brim with eye-catching glitter.
The girls grimaced as they pawed their similarly glitter-adorned programs, knowing that the tiny, vividly-shaded specks of shimmering, coated aluminum may as well be branded into their clothing forever – or at least a dozen washes.
"Compulsion," Anna replied dryly. "The entire Council's been compelled – not even they are this stupid and outdated. This place is careening toward becoming the biggest laughingstock in the nation," she hissed, already suspecting that a certain someone would slyly sneak footage of it to eager news outlooks just jonesing to take the mickey out of their town.
Someone who probably didn't plan to stay there past next week, Anna growled internally, while keeping a carefully neutral expression on her face.
Before Elena could respond, the contestants were ushered onto the makeshift stage, each dressed in a juvenile interpretation of a period ensemble, which Anna strongly suspected was deliberately arranged just to set her teeth on edge. It was practically a carefully-curated concoction of everything she hated the most – child exploitation; a patriarchal lean on outdated gender roles; and glorification of the antebellum lifestyle without acknowledging the ugliness that made it possible. The fact that she unequivocally knew that Damon shared at least the latter sentiment with her meant that his commitment to pissing her the fuck off was that strong.
What a dick.
"Hello, girls!" announced Peggy Fell, one of Mystic Falls' own ladies-who-lunch, into a microphone. The perfectly manicured nails and sharply raised eyebrow above a frozen sneer bespoke of a life of luxurious elitism that came with being a proud Founding Family member and enjoying its every ignorant privilege.
The aforementioned sneer was generally aimed at those she deemed to be of 'lower class' – her employees, who she claimed couldn't grasp the concept of 'service with a smile,' and should just be happy to have a job at all; the children of the less affable townsfolk, at whom she occasionally managed to pull a tight grimace-bordering-on-sneer when attempting a smile in public, while regaling her fellow Founding Femmes, as they liked to call themselves, with the moral inadequacies that come with 'breeding with such inferior stock'; her sharp, hazel eyes, scrutinizing and judging the 'dregs' of Mystic Falls, while falling into a dramatic near-feint, lamenting 'what's happened to us? Just when did we stop caring about the things that matter?'
The somewhat glassy look in her eye, however, suggested that her forthcoming speech was at least partially compelled, so Anna couldn't wait to hear the onslaught of gems she'd produce. "Please come forward and introduce yourselves to your judges – and be sure to tell our dear, sweet Anna and Elena just why they're your heroes."
An adorable toddler dressed in an outfit that could have belonged to Katherine Pierce waddled forth, bright scarlet lips in a beaming grin, eager to gain approval from the audience at large. "Hi!" she beamed. "My name is Annabelle Mills," the sweet girl continued gushing, as Anna narrowed her eyes at the name. "And my dream is to be pretty like you so all boys like me! And –"
"Uuuh," Anna interrupted, visibly uncomfortable. "Annabelle," she said awkwardly, clearing her throat. "There's so much more you can achieve in life than just being pretty and well-liked by others," she continued gently. "For example, you can become the Preside –"
"You're right, Anna! Did you hear that, girls?" chirped Peggy Fell, interrupting Anna's attempt at undoing some of the damage with a forcefully loud intrusion into her microphone. "Being pretty is the most important thing in the world! How else would she ever get anyone to love her? You all want to be worthy of love, right?"
Elena and Anna groaned in their seats, sliding evermore downward, just desperate to disappear as contestant after contestant came forth to deliver a soul-piercing soliloquy –at least the toddler version of one – about their goals to essentially reduce their value to their looks and popularity.
It was like a 1950s dystopian hellscape.
The worst part was that every time Elena or Anna tried to gently disabuse the girls of the notion, they would smile, agree, and carry on with their previous monologue, guided by a member of the Council.
No, not even the Founding Femmes – in all their reductive glory – would come up with something so obvious. It was pretty obvious who the culprit behind this disaster was.
And as if summoned, the self-satisfied form of Damon Salvatore casually strolled onto the scene, wearing a magnanimous smile that Elena was relatively sure was part of his act and scheme to embarrass their town.
He calmly took a microphone from Carol Lockwood before smiling charmingly at the girls, his face alight with kindness. At least he was a halfway decent actor, Anna scoffed.
"You're so much more than that, girls. It's perfectly fine to want to be pretty, because all of you are. But much more important, is inner beauty – being kind to others. And all of you are worth so much more than just a Little Miss Miss Mystic Falls crown," he chuckled good-naturedly. "Who came up with that clunky title?" Damon asked, to a round of giggles from the contestants and laughter from attendees, following by piercing glares from the two head judges.
Fucking jackass, Elena inwardly steamed.
"Why don't we make the next round the following? We each stand in a circle, and move clockwise, saying something kind about the person to our right – and the girl with the kindest compliment wins the round," he suggested to eager nods from all involved, including of course the compelled hosts.
Elena and Anna could easily see a camera crew now that was obscured previously, no doubt due to paint Damon as the savior of the town's grace. At that moment, neither doubted that they'd ever felt more angry.
"Remember, girls, you're so much more than the patriarchy deems you to be! Each one of you could be the President," he said, sending a directed smirk to Anna, "or a doctor, or scientist, or astronaut, or write a Nobel Prize-winning novel. You can be and do anything you can imagine!" he concluded to a round of applause, and a mocking smile and wink to Elena and Anna.
He left the stage immediately afterward, and it appeared the compulsions must have met the condition to no longer be active, as well, because Peggy at least stopped interrupting Anna and Elena when they suggested something less-than-misogynistic to the girls.
Finally, it was time to break before crowning the winner, which gave the unwilling judges a few minutes respite before the final leg of the day's torment. That meant that a certain confrontation was finally in order, Elena thought with harrowed eyes. While Anna was busy trying to fix this mess and hopefully remove any shred of their identities from this monstrosity should Damon make good on his implied threat to have the pageant's footage find its way to national news outlets, Elena opted for a more straightforward approach.
Elena barreled toward her object of simultaneous rage and desi – nope, just rage – with all the fury of a tidal wave encroaching on an unassuming shore.
Except the particular 'shore' in question was a smug snake, sipping bourbon off to the side while fending off what could kindly be called sexual harassment by the Founding Femmes, though he didn't seem to entirely mind. Upon seeing her, he quickly excused himself and walked out of the room to afford them the privacy that he was certain they'd need.
"You'd be remiss of you miss or dismiss Little Miss Miss Mystic Falls, Miss," Elena read dryly from the program in her hand, hitting him in the chest with it for emphasis when she finally caught up to him. "I think that tagline just made my ears bleed."
"You might want to get that looked at. You humans are so fragile," he tutted, feigning concern with a shake of his head. "Bleeding ears, bleeding necks, bleeding hearts. It's like walking into a buffet where the food just begs to be eaten. All that temptation can't be good for a vampire watching his figure, Elena. You think it's easy being the Eternal Stud?"
Ignoring this obvious attempt to rile her, she instead focused on his other obvious attempt to rile her. "You were purposely trying to embarrass us – this whole town. Not even the Founding Families would have signed off on something so backward!"
Damon just shrugged, unaffected. "I hate this place."
Elena gasped, exasperated that he'd so easily and unapologetically admitted his guilt. "So, you subject these girls into being brainwashed by Mrs. Lockwood and her flock of elitist Karens into a shallow, mean, misogynistic nineteen-fifties nightmare?"
"Whaaat?" Damon asked with ever-widening baby blue eyes, the picture of innocence. "I thought you'd like this! Wasn't it you who assumed that my familiar was male just because you thought she had 'Doctor' in her name? I was just trying to cater to your tastes and beliefs," he asked in mock-concern, clutching his chest, before breaking into laughter. "Relax! I came to save the day, didn't I? Now the girls know that they're worth so much more than 'just being pretty like Anna and Elena' and that they don't have to 'kowtow to the patriarchy', either."
If it were humanly possible, Elena would have sworn that her jaw just hit the floor at his audacity. She struggled to speak for several whole moments, just making outraged little sounds while Damon's grin visibly grew wider and wider and wider. "I hate you," Elena grumbled. "You are such a dick."
"Oh really?" he asked with a taunting wiggle of his eyebrows, mirth dancing in his gaze as he did that 'eye thing' that had a curious effect on her insides. "You know, that offer with the stacks still stands."
"I just said that I hate you, Damon, and that you're a dick," she deadpanned. "That isn't flirting."
"Hate is not the opposite of love, Elena. That's indifference," he revealed with a carefree wink.
Elena studied him for a few moments, her lips curving almost imperceptibly when she took in the full meaning of his words, proudly grasping at the opportunity to get one up on him. "So, when you say that you hate this place…" she trailed off in a voice considerably more flirtatious than she intended.
Damon allowed his features to relax into a carefree smile, at once annoyed and impressed by Elena turning his own words against him. "Nicely deduced. Mystic Falls and I have a … complicated relationship," he admitted. "But that's a story for another day," he followed with a sultry tone. "One I'd be very happy to discuss in the right setting."
"Would that setting afford not having either Anna or me attached to this patriarchal nightmare?" she demanded with a raise of both eyebrows.
Damon's only response was laughter for several long, nerve-wrecking moments. "You should have seen your faces," he chortled, before getting a hold of himself. "No, you don't have to worry. I just wanted to screw with Anna – even if I go public with this, your names or faces won't be attached to it in any way."
Elena bit her lip nervously, feeling a profound sense of pity for Mrs. Lockwood and her admittedly very mean friends. Even they didn't deserve this, however. "Any chance you could not go public with this?"
"Why not?" he scoffed. "Their entire inflated sense of self-worth is based on birth. Who gives a fuck?"
"Their kids might! Some of them are my friends. If everyone starts making fun of their parents, how will that reflect on them?" Elena countered, crossing her arms over her chest, her chest heaving in excitement. It had been so long since she'd had this kind of passionate outburst with anyone. She felt so angry, and excited, and – stop it. She stifled their thoughts long before they reached their natural conclusion.
"Lots of people have shitty parents. I should tell you about mine sometime," he retorted lazily, choosing not to think about the content of his words, and instead inspecting some wall art as though showing even the slightest bit of concern for any of Mystic Falls' inhabitants caused him utmost boredom. The truth was that in his current state, he found the Council members to be irritating at most. He saw exactly what he expected when he rolled into town. Same spoiled, haughty group who considered themselves aristocracy lording over the perceived peasantry. Each one a blowhard and a bore, perhaps with the exception of Liz, he grudgingly admitted. Liz was pretty decent.
"Will you?" Elena breathed, her tone softening. She noticed the faraway haze in his eyes as soon as he said it, intuiting that his own family must be a painful subject for him. Her hand gently found its way to his forearm, his eyes jumping to hers in surprise – a brief bout of tenderness, vulnerability, and finally closed-off smugness yet again.
The mask returned almost as soon as it dropped, but she noticed.
Damon drew his eyebrows together in a frown, not expecting the conversation to take this tone at all as he felt another chunk fall out of the wall that desperately held back his humanity, the fire within it igniting as it roared to the surface whenever he was around this girl. She was dangerous. And he was admittedly to attracted to its allure.
Instead of following her preferred line of inquiry, however, he opted to return the conversation to its previous direction, allowing a smile to grace his lips. "You know how you take away someone's power, Elena? You turn them into a joke. Can't be afraid of someone if you're busy laughing at them."
The sparkle in her dark, expressive eyes matched the mischief in her rising smirk, needling him. "Are you afraid of Mrs. Lockwood and her posse, Damon? Do you need me to protect you?"
"I've been fighting off amorous advances my whole life," Damon stressed theatrically, the back of his hand dramatically resting on his forehead, earning a giggle from Elena, which he answered with a wink to her waiting blush. "No, but her staff might. I thought you modern, emancipated women were all about standing up for the rights of the working class," he teased, righting himself again.
"So, you do care!" Elena beamed, too happy with affirming her assumption about his character to properly take the bait. "I knew you were hiding a heart in there somewhere."
"No, I don't," he scoffed, scandalized at the notion, and then recovered with a suggestive grin. "But you're free to search me and try to prove me wrong."
Before she could properly reply, it was time for the crowning ceremony, and Damon promptly made himself scarce, having about enough of the pageant, the Founding Families, and everything associated with them – with the exception of perhaps two of its very grudging judges, whom he reluctantly admitted could be a lot of fun.
Although Elena was reticent to admit it, something about fencing with Damon – their own little dance that occasionally flirted with not-quite-yet affectionate banter – brought out a spirit and sass in her that she thought had been long-buried.
Perhaps for the first time since that awful May night, Elena felt alive.
Several hours, empty speeches, and the brink of a tension headache later, the girls found themselves by the lake on the Lockwood Estate grounds, laying on the grass and looking at the stars, trying to catch a modicum of energy after their profound mental exhaustion.
"We both need this after that nightmare," Anna groaned, producing several bottles of champagne proudly filtered from the Lockwood cellars, popping two and giving one to Elena.
Although the human girl was fully aware that drinking an entire bottle of the fizzy, alcoholic beverage was probably a bad idea, the night had done such a number on her nerves that nearly any distraction would be welcome, and champagne always put her into such a good mood.
Half an hour later, Elena was three-quarters into her Moet, while Anna was on her fifth – intoxicated enough that even her vampire constitution was affected.
"That fucking bastard! That smug –" Anna cried, exasperated, only to be interrupted by a giggling Elena.
"We should get him back! He wants a prank war? We'll give him a prank war! He'll be sorry he never messed with us," Elena huffed righteously.
"And I know just the way," Anna countered slyly.
Elena perked up, sitting upright before a wave of dizziness suddenly took her over. "What's that?" she asked when it abated somewhat.
"The champagne isn't all I stole today," Anna revealed with a grin as she produced a bottle of Flintstones vitamins from her purse, shaking it for emphasis. "I stole these from one of the contestants. A little souvenir for Damon."
"What are we doing with it?" Elena slurred, reaching for the bottle to sneak one of her favorite treats from childhood, before Anna yanked it away upon intuiting her plans.
"Well," Anna stretched importantly, a languid grin sneaking onto her face as she drunkenly prepared to regale Elena with her brilliance. "I ran into one of Damon's one-night stands during the intermission while I tried to fix that whole mess," she began, ignoring the pained look on Elena's face at the mention of the source of her information. She'd have to get over it, Anna reasoned – a one-night stand is nothing compared to Katherine, and he'd probably leave town soon with Noah to look for her once he discovers that she was never in the tomb, anyway. The sooner, the better, as far as Anna was concerned. "She told me that he keeps some prized bottle of bourbon in his room. We're going to drop them inside!"
"Perfect!" Elena responded with a wicked grin of her own, barely pulling herself upright in her inebriated state. "That'll show him!"
The cackling girls made their way over to the Salvatore Boarding House to seek their revenge, all the while unaware of a certain corvid perched in a tree overhead, waiting to alert her humanoid of their impeding arrival.
Would Anna normally feel Damon's familiar's presence? Absolutely. But she's kind of distracted with her inebriated state and overall sense of annoyance at the moment. :D While I can spoil that this prank will absolutely fail, since Doctor Kaw-Kaw is warning Damon, the next one the girls pull to make up for it may be very successful, indeed. :)
We really only see Elena get sexually active with people for whom she has feelings: Matt (Probably. I know there's debate, but I think they slept together, since I'm fairly certain that there would be at least some mention of her losing her virginity to Stefan if that was actually the case. These things are generally verbalized both in real life and in fiction. That and Caroline said, "they were each other's firsts in everything," implying it), Stefan, and Damon (in chronological order). Her line in S4 delivered under truth-seeking compulsion, "I slept with Damon because I'm in love with him," seems to suggest it also. So, I took that as someone who feels that love is very interwoven with sex (at least for her). Contrast with Caroline and Damon (and Stefan and Matt), who have no issue separating love from sex, whatsoever. I suspect that Bonnie is similar to Elena in this respect, because we really see her with Jeremy and Enzo. Neither approach is better than the other; just different perspectives that are fun to explore in fiction.
I made Anna more like Damon and Caroline, just for fun, since it'll provide the opportunity for potentially amusing situations. We don't learn enough about her in the series to know either way.
This, of course, suggests that Elena's very clear sexual frustration hints at something deeper happening beneath the surface – something she's not ready to admit to herself yet.
Anyway, that's my interpretation for storytelling purposes. Art is art, and it lends itself to many.
I think Peggy Fell was at least partly inspired by The Goblet of Fire-era Narcissa Malfoy? I imagine there's a certain overlap between the mentalities of MF Founding Families and pureblood elitists in HP. (I decided to give Carol Lockwood a break from the spotlight as the resident Karen of MF, and introduce an even more Karen-y Karen, since the Lockwood matriarch does improve as the series progresses.)
Okay, so Anna channels Poison Ivy from Harley Quinn the Animated Series quite a bit, but why not? :D She's always shown herself to be a smart and snarky girl. This just develops her further into a very specific direction.
I was going to include the attempted prank at the Boarding House in this chapter, as I already have most of the scene written, but the chapter was getting a bit overlong again, so think of it as the next chapter being well on its way! :D
Much love to all of you, beautiful humans.
